


Nasty Naughty Boy

by justwantedtodance



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Big Switch Energy, Emma is a giant tease, F/M, Get you somebody who can do both, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Strip Tease, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwantedtodance/pseuds/justwantedtodance
Summary: Emma teaches Paul the difference between "want" and "need." Title and lyrics taken from "Nasty Naughty Boy" by Christina Aguilera.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	Nasty Naughty Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Give the song in the title a listen if you haven't. The song lyrics are in italics, by the way!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this porn-fest that ended up being WAY dirtier than I intended!

Paul enters the darkened house calling out for Emma and is shocked when she doesn’t answer. Assuming she might not be back in from having her weekly dinner with Hidgens, he shrugs, hanging up his jacket and rolling his sleeves, before making his way to the couch to turn on the TV. He’s stopped from sitting, however, by a small hand in the center of his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Hi, Em, I didn’t know you were home yet. What’s up with the lights? Are you trying to save on the electric bill or something?”

Emma wraps one hand around Paul’s neck and pulls him down while she reaches up towards him on her toes. “Just kiss me,” she says huskily. 

Hungrily, he responds in kind to her touch and moans in her mouth when she tugs at his tie. Freeing the knot at his neck doesn’t stop her from creating a new knot elsewhere with the silky material in her hands. She switches their position so he’s poised to sit in the kitchen chair she dragged into the living room before Paul got home. Once he sits, Emma straddles his lap and runs her hands down his arms, peeling them from her waist so they rest at his sides and a little behind him to exact the first step of her plan.

She slides off his legs and moves behind him to wrap the tie around his wrists tight enough to keep his hands still but loose enough to where he could break out if he really needed to. Being the leader of an alien hive mind didn’t make him a superhero necessarily, but it did come with some pretty sweet perks, namely amplified strength, though he never has and never will use it against Emma. If anything, he puts up much less resistance than Emma anticipated.

“What are you up to back there?” Emma doesn’t answer; she just tests the bonds while Paul shifts in the chair looking back at her. “Emma, come on. Why can’t I touch you? I haven’t seen you all day. I need to feel you, sweetheart.”

“And that’s exactly the problem, Paul.” She stands up and rubs his shoulders from behind him. “You say you _need_ to feel me, you say you _need_ my mouth on you, you _need_ this and that and everything else, but I think what you _really_ need is for someone to show you the difference between ‘want’ and ‘need.’”

She smiles to herself when she feels him shift in his seat, clearly in suspense for what she has planned. She makes him say his safe word before she continues. Not that she hopes he’ll use it, but given her method of instruction, it’s better to be on caution’s side. At least he’s in for a treat one way or another tonight.

Paul maintains his composure even as Emma starts to kiss her way from his collar to his ear lobe, but he loses it when she begins to sing a sultry tune in his ear. He can hear it too, the snazzy brass section firing up loud and clear, and he knows he’s in trouble now. “ _You’ve been a bad, bad boy. I’m gonna take my time, so enjoy.”_

His heart begins to race, and he whispers her name as he tips his head back to expose more of his skin to her lips. Just as quickly as she came, Emma darts away and moves to Paul’s front, leaning over him and beginning to open his shirt.

_“There’s no need to feel shame. Relax, and sip upon my champagne,_ ” she continues. She plants a kiss on the corner of Paul’s mouth, not quite capturing his lips, but she does leave some of her goo behind for him to chase after with his tongue. 

Emma backs up a few steps to drop the coat covering her and flings it off to the side. She’s wearing her Beanie’s uniform under the coat, which isn’t unflattering by any means, but it’s not exactly the red-carpet standard of seduction either. Though Paul would beg to differ, given the way the crisp white shirt clings to her boobs, and he still wonders how on earth she got away with wearing shorts that short that made her ass impossible not to stare at. Only after Ted’s lewd comment leaving the shop one day did Paul wager a glance, and it was cursory at best, but now, his eyes hold no shame or fear of disapproval as his eyes roam up and down her body. To make matters worse, she’s wearing a pair of caged black platform heels with too many sexual overtones that aren’t helping ward off his erection.

Her fingers fiddle with the black bow at her neck, twirling the long end of the ribbon around her index finger a few times. _“‘Cause I wanna give you a little taste of the sugar below my waist, you nasty boy.”_

She pulls the ribbon to nearly uncurl one side of the bow, but Paul’s groan snaps her head up to look at him. Her lips turning upwards, she shakes her head at him, and it wouldn’t be the last time she denies his wishes tonight. Instead, she removes the pins and clips keeping her bun in place, letting them clatter carelessly to the ground, and untwists her wavy hair, fluffing it out to let it drape around her shoulders.

Paul rarely ever sees her with her hair down; usually, she has it braided or piled in a bun on the top or back of her head, but just like the rest of her, Emma’s hair is fit for a goddess. Silky to touch with a shine that rivals the sun’s reflection off the metal buildings of downtown Hatchetfield, she is truly a creature of beauty, especially with her eyes glinting primally as she runs her fingers through her hair. God, Paul would give anything to do that; she knows that, which is exactly why she’s taunting him with it.

He doesn’t notice having been lost in his own fantasies that now, she’s standing back behind him with her fingernails combing through his scalp. Damn, that feels good. _“I’ll give you some ooh-la-la,_ ” Emma moans in his left ear. She switches to the right to ask him a question. _“Voulez vous coucher avec moi?”_

Oh, wouldn’t he love to sleep with her right now? He’d rather do anything than sit helplessly by while his dick grows harder every minute Emma tortures him. But she’s not even begun the real fun yet. She moves back around the chair, dropping down into a little turn to really give Paul a show of her ass as she stands back up. Emma chuckles and wipes the beads of moisture that have pooled at his hairline before transforming her voice into a pout. _“I got you breakin’ into a sweat. Got you hot, bothered, and wet, you nasty boy._ ”

Emma gives Paul one salacious kiss on his neck before backing up to undo her ribbon and the buttons on her shirt. One by one, she slips them each through their holes and savors how Paul tries to reach in his seat to be closer to her until her shirt is off completely, and she tosses it into the haphazard pile of her clothes. She struts to the archway between the foyer and the living room in only her bra, those short shorts, and those goddamned heels.

“God, Emma, please…”

Emma belts out the next chorus as her back slides down the wall, her knees spread apart. _“Baby, for all it’s worth, I swear I’ll be the first to blow your mind.”_

She drops to the floor and starts to crawl towards him on her hands and knees, and she thinks Paul’s soul might have left his body when she holds his stare with her chocolate brown cat eyes. _“Now if you’re ready, come and get me. I’ll give you that hot, sweet, sexy lovin'.”_

Turning over on her back, she spreads her arms out and makes a circle with her legs like a cat swishing its tail before sitting up with her back arched looking back at Paul struggling in his restraints.

“Emma, please, I’m sorry, whatever I did. I’ve learned my lesson, I swear, I—“

She cuts him off with a low _shhhh_ , running her index finger down his pouty lips before unbuttoning his shirt completely. “ _Hush now, don’t say a word. I’m gonna give you what you deserve.”_

Hovering over his dick, Emma straddles the chair and sinks down slowly as if she were going to ride him, even grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage like she would in this position. The sweetest moan leaves her lips as her eyes tip back in her head because even through two layers of fabric, she can feel his hardness and where a small wet spot has formed. Poor baby can’t control himself around her, and that’s the exact thing she’s trying to teach him. Good to know her instruction is working.

Emma grinds on him, her hips swaying in figure-eights. _“Now, you better give me a little taste. Put your icing on my cake, you nasty boy.”_

He’ll give her more than a taste when he’s free of these things, that’s for sure. Emma’s hands trail down his chest, and when she pauses at his belt, Paul thinks he’s in the clear, thinks she’ll grant him some relief, but she doesn’t. She pops the buttons, one, two, three, on her own shorts and drags them down her legs as she moves away from him. Emma flings off her shorts and turns around to give Paul a full view of her ass and the way the lace panties she wore specifically for this occasion frame her ass cheeks.

She sings again, flipping her hair over her shoulder and looking back at Paul as she rubs her hand over her ass. _“Oh no, oooh, there I go again, I need a spankin’ ‘cause I’ve been bad.”_

Paul’s drooling at this point, full-on salivating staring at his girlfriend across the room. “Jesus, fuck, Emma…”

Gracefully, she sinks into the armchair directly across from him and surveys his complete state of undoing. Chest heaving with each breath, blue goo dripping from his mouth, arms straining against the bonds at his back. Emma’s enjoying this probably too much, but she’s not finished yet.

_“So, let my body do the talkin’, I’ll slip you that hot, sweet, sexy lovin’.”_

As she drops in the chair, she slides her panties to the side and touches herself with her other hand. Emma leans back and moans Paul’s name as she slips her fingers inside her pussy. She intentionally makes more noise than she would in bed with him normally because she knows he’s helplessly turned on, and she wants to exploit that. Only for a moment, though; she’ll be kind once she’s seen him truly learn his lesson. Just a little longer.

Emma brings her hand up to her chest and plays with her nipple while the other circles her clit and every so often slides in and out of herself. _“Oh, baby, for all it’s worth, I swear I’ll be the first to blow your mind.”_ She stands up and licks her fingers before sauntering her way back to Paul. _“Now that you’re ready, give it to me. Just give me that hot, sweet, sexy lovin’.”_

Once more, she straddles his lap and gives him a deep kiss, and she lets him taste her secondhand when he slips his tongue in her mouth. Emma wraps her arms around his neck and clings to his hair with the other while she kisses him, and when she pulls back, she’s barely a breath away. 

“Now, do you understand, Paul?” He nods emphatically and dives for her mouth again, but she diverts and settles him down by running her fingers through his now messy hair. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, baby, but I need to know you’ve truly learned something. See this right here? _This_ is what need looks like. When you say you _need_ me, I want you to remember this feeling. Okay?”

“Okay,” he chokes, arousal thickening his voice in his throat.

Emma kisses his cheek and bites at his earlobe. “You can say it now.”

“Say what?”

She should have known he’s too far gone to think straight right now, so she laughs a little and continues to kiss down the slope of his jaw while unzipping his pants and palming his erection. “Tell me you need me, Paul.”

“God, I need you.”

“Say it again,” she orders, moving back up inching towards his lips.

“I need you, Em.”

She pecks his lips and whispers, “Keep going.”

He’s babbling almost incoherently about how much he needs her, so much so that he fails to notice she’s freed his arms until they’re placed firmly on her hips and she’s sitting back on his lap with a smug smile. Paul’s eyes begin to glow as he looks at his overconfident, now fully naked, girlfriend.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Or what,” she counters, the challenge in her eyes only growing.

“I have ways to make you,” he growls.

“Oh yeah?”

Silently, they stare each other down waiting to see who will make the first move. Will Emma grow tired of his playing the waiting game, or will Paul surprise her with boldness? The latter happens first, Paul standing up from the chair and lowering Emma to the ground. It only takes a second before he pushes himself inside of her with a groan and clutches onto her shoulder. Emma lets him have his fun just for a moment before she flutters her eyelashes and chuckles.

“Awww, is that all you got?” Paul’s eyes widen as he slowly pulls out of her and strokes his cock while she continues to stare at him, one of her hands rubbing her nipple. “You know, I’m hearing a whole lot of talk from you with very little—”

Paul seizes the opportunity to use his other hand to flip Emma over on her stomach before hauling her hips up and thrusting hard back inside of her. It’s only when he smacks her ass with a full palm that her composure breaks just enough for her to moan his name. This certainly wasn’t in her plan. But she’s always liked improv games.

“How long have we been doing this, Emma? You know better than to tease me like that and think you’ll get away with it.” His movements are slow but deep, and when he pulls her up by her hair, her back arching, she lets out a loud sound of pleasure. Paul moves his mouth close to her ear, his next words deliciously sinful. “Or perhaps you’re the one who needs to be taught a lesson since you insist on acting like such a _little fucking brat_.” He punctuates the end of the sentence with three cervix-deep thrusts before letting her fall forward on her hands. 

Emma grips the rug underneath her as he fucks her faster. Finally, her needy moans become joyful when she comes, her whole body tensing as the spring inside her finally releases and ripples out in powerful waves that send Paul over the edge of his own orgasm.

A few moments of stillness pass while they recover together, Emma finally sinking down to the carpet on her stomach once Paul slips out of her and rolls onto his back. Her breathing begins to slow, but she hisses when she turns over onto her back sliding next to Paul. Immediately, Paul snaps to attention.

“Oh god, Em, is your leg okay? Are your knees okay? Are you—?”

Emma smiles and reaches for his hand. “It’s fine, they’re fine, I’m fine, just come here.” She reassures him by urging him on top of her and grabs his face to kiss him. “I love you,” she whispers sweetly.

“I love you too, angel.”

They exchange a few soft pecks before Emma breaks away and hooks her ankles around his back. “That was fun,” she smiles mischievously. Paul hums, trying to remain neutral in tone as Emma’s eyes brighten. “You know, you should go all ‘Head of the Hive’ on me more often. It’s really hot.”

He kisses the corner of her mouth where her dimple curls in. “Noted, but only if you never, _ever_ tease me like that again.” She drops her smile and whines, pouting her lower lip out. “I’m serious, Em, that was painful at the end.”

“Hey, I told you that you could use the safe word, so either you forgot or you didn’t want to use it.”

“Well, being tortured like that makes me very forgetful.” 

Emma shoots him a look of disbelief. “Your memory is damn near photographic, so I don’t buy that for a second. Just admit it: you _love_ the torture. You _looooooove_ being at my mercy. Big bad Paul Matthews loves getting his ass handed to him by his girlfriend.”

“And yet I’m not the one with a handprint on my ass, am I?” Emma’s mouth drops open at his banter. Truly, she’s at a loss for words at his ability to formulate such a witty comeback right after sex. Paul copies her stunned expression before kissing her on the nose. “Gotcha.”

“You’ll admit it one day,” Emma says, pushing him off of her to roll on her side.

“Sure, Em.”

She was right; he would admit it… one day later.

**Author's Note:**

> PHEW! We made it! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos or a comment, and come flail with me on Tumblr @somethingsareworthit if you have fic requests or just want to talk all things Starkid. Thanks! 😊


End file.
